Little Keepers
by Knight of Silver
Summary: Two siblings watch over their older brother.


Author's Note: One, it must be really bad if you have to use spell check to correctly spell "author." (For reference, I wrote this note after the story.) Second, John is around 15 in this story. Enjoy.

The door to the bedroom opened without a sound. A young boy followed by an even younger girl entered the room. The girl pushed the door shut but not as quietly to her brother's liking, and the door clicked shut.

"Shh" he said quietly. "You'll wake him up."

"Sorry."

The brother rolled his eyes and continued his advancement toward the bed. He stopped and looked at his older brother, who was sleeping. His sister came up beside him.

"What happened to his cheek?" she asked, noting the discoloration on her brother's left side of his face.

"Pop hit him."

"Why?"

"John didn't go to school."

"Mom said he didn't have to."

"I know, but Pop said he should have."

"But he was sick. Throwing up and everything. We got to stay home when we were sick."

"I know."

"So why did Pop want John to go to school? Doesn't he want John to get better?"

The brother just shrugged and didn't answer. He couldn't answer because he honestly didn't know, and had been wondering the same thing ever since he heard his father yelling at John earlier.

His sister walked around him so that she was closer to John's head.

"Look" she said. "His forehead has water on it."

"That's sweat." _Jeez, sometimes sisters can be so dumb….. _"He might have a fever."

The sister nodded and moved to touch John's head, but her brother grabbed her arm.

"What are you doing?"

"Seeing if he has a fever. That's how Ma does it."

"Oh. Here let me do it."

"Why do you get to do it?"

"'Cause I don't want you waking him."

"I won't" she protested. At that moment however, John moved in his sleep and his brother and sister both jumped back startled. John settled quickly and soon was still again.

"Ok" the brother said. "You can check now."

"I don't want to."

"You just said you did."

"But now I don't want to."

He sighed. "Fine." He carefully placed his hand on his brother's forehead. It felt warm and sticky. He drew his hand back.

"Does he have a fever?"

"I don't know. How do you tell?"

"I don't know."

"Well, his head felt warm. Let me see your head." He put his hand on his sister's forehead. Her's was considerably cooler. "Maybe he does have a fever."

"What do we do about it?"

"Hmm. Mom puts a wet washcloth on my head when I'm sick. Let's do that. And if Pop's not downstairs, we'll get him some water."

"Ok. I'll get the washcloth."

"Make sure you wring it out so it doesn't drip."

"I know. I'm not stupid."

_Sometimes _he thought as they left to do their tasks.

When he came back, his sister was standing by the bed holding a wet, folded washcloth. He set the glass of water on John's nightstand and took the cloth from his sister.

"Was Pop down there?"

"No. I think he went out. The car's gone."

"So we're alone?"

"Yep." Their mother had gone to Friday night mass, as it was her ritual.

"What if something happens?"

"Nothing is going to happen." He gently placed the washcloth on John's forehead. "We've been left before plenty of times."

"But not when John was sick."

"Let's try to make him better so he can take care of us alright?" He felt foolish saying that they, essentially, could not take care of themselves. After all, he was almost 10 and knew what to do and what not to do. His sister, on the other hand, being only six worried like six year olds do.

"Alright. Hey, are we going to get sick too?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because we were already sick."

"Oh, that's right. Ok."

Several minutes passed in silence with them watching their brother sleep. Then John began to stir. As he slowly came out of his dream he felt something on his forehead. Intrigued, he lifted his arm to remove it. Opening his eyes he saw that it was a washcloth. He then noticed his siblings standing by his bed.

"Hey" he croaked. His throat felt like a desert.

"Want some water?" his brother asked.

John nodded and slowly propped himself on his elbow so he could drink. He took the glass from his brother and gulped it down.

"Where's Pop?" he asked when he was finished.

"Gone. Ma's at mass." He took the cup from John.

John nodded and lay back down. It then hit him that his siblings had been there when he woke up and now they were watching him.

"What are you guys doing?"

"We're making you better" his sister stated proudly.

"What?"

"You always take care of us. We're going to take care of you now" his brother said.

"You don't have to. You guys can go play or something. I'll be fine." Even as he said this, his eyes were closing as exhaustion took over.

"It's ok," he heard his brother say. "We don't mind."

"You can sit on the bed if you want" John mumbled.

His siblings quickly scrambled onto the bed, one on each side of him. His sister took the washcloth that was lying next to him and put it back on his forehead.

"Thanks" he managed to mumble before sleep overtook him. The sister smiled at her brother across from her, who smiled back.

In the morning, John would find them curled up next to him, but, for now, they sat and watched him sleep.


End file.
